


Tastes so Sweet

by Felinafullstop



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 04:03:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20324794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felinafullstop/pseuds/Felinafullstop
Summary: Aziraphale has to pause at that. "Oh, we've resorted to being polite have we? How well do you think that is going to work out for you?" He adores the show the Demon is making in an attempt to get him out of his shop.Crowley sighed, "Pretty please?""The outward appearance of the please," he turns the book over and sets it behind him in a bin. "Does not sway me.""With a cherry on top?"





	Tastes so Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> “Love. It means letting go of always having things the way you want them. It means giving in, if you know it’ll make the other person happy. When it’s done right, it feels so good. Not like you’re sacrificing anything. It feels more like you’re giving someone a precious gift.”  
― Tonya Lampley

  


Aziraphale swallows and sets the book he's holding aside. "I don't think so, Crowley, not today." 

The Demon sits on the small sofa, his glasses discarded on the table. "Come on. It'll be fun!" He's been begging the angel to go out and do something with him for more than 20 minutes. 

"I'm not going with you," He picks up another book, checks spine and condition. He turns it over in his hands, trying to remember to test the bind and inspect for mold. "I just haven't the time." That's wasn't exactly a lie; he could find LOADS to do.

"Come on, Angel." The Demon stood up, moving to the counter. "We survived it. They don't have the know-how to harm us, and they don't need to know-" Crowley's hand landed on his hand, pushing the current book he's holding on to the table. “I want to celebrate.” It’s spoken so softly, that the Angel looks up at him with sympathetic eyes. 

"Crowley, you must stop this-" he sighs and pulls the book out dusting off the cover gently. "You almost broke the bind on this one." He frowns, looking down at the red bound tome.

"It's just a book-"

"It is not ‘Just a book,’ Crowley. Its is an outstanding second printing of Alexander Dumas' The Black Tulip."

"A black tulip, you say? Sounds lovely." He rolls around elbows on the counter as he leans back. “Prefer ferns though.” 

"It's about a man who breeds one out, and another jealous man has him put in prison before he can join a contest, that they think he’ll win. He falls in love with the warden's daughter." Aziraphale lays the book down gently. "It's a love story." he smiles brightly at the back of the Demon’s head. “Intrigue, suspense, and love.” 

"Aren't they all filled with that?" Crowley rolled his eyes with distaste. He leans on the counter. "Come on, Angel, please?"

Aziraphale has to pause at that. "Oh, we've resorted to being polite have we? How well do you think that is going to work out for you?" He adores the show the Demon is making in an attempt to get him out of his shop.

Crowley sighed, "Pretty please?"

"The outward appearance of the please," he turns the book over and sets it behind him in a bin. "Does not sway me."

"With a cherry on top?"

Aziraphale pauses. "Those little ones they put in the fancy drinks?"

"If that's what you're after, yes," Crowley smirks. "I'm bored, entertain me."

"Fine, let me finish the last two books, and I will indulge you. Just this once." There had been hundreds of moments of this in Aziraphale’s life, and just this once, always turned into more than only one occurrence. 

* * *

As the host leads them up a beautifully stained stair, Aziraphale can't help but shake his head at his surroundings. "Oh my darling, you should have told me you were taking me to a new restaurant!" He is bristling with hopeful, loving, angelic energy. “It’s so lovely, all the dark woods, the greenery hanging about.” It was lush, that was the best way to describe the place. 

At the top of the stairs, the host leads them out a small door to a roof-top garden. Tables dot the space for polite distance for the diners. "Stunning." And it is. Honestly, it has been a long time since Aziraphale had seen such elegance. 

They stop at a table in the corner near giant ferns that Crowly eyes seriously for a few moments before they sit. The host hands over menus and says their server will be with them in a moment.

"Oh, Crowley, you should have told me it was a new Restaurant." His hand gestures about. “I love the greenery! A rooftop garden, it’s all lovely.” 

"Would've ruined the surprise, Angel." Crowley sets the menu on the table, and he points up. “Stars.”

Aziraphale pitches his head back. “Oh Crowley, this is indeed a wonderful way to celebrate.” Aziraphale comes back to earth, casting the demon a grin before he peels the menu open. It takes him a second, but he closes the menu to peer at the outer cover. "The Garden of Eden." He smiles at Crowley. "How charming." He opens it back up to search for something to order. 

"Would it not be-"

"Ineffable? Why, yes." He smirks and opens his menu, glancing about at the pictures. "Oh this is lovely, look at these beautiful dishes."

The server comes a tall, dark-haired woman with glasses. "What can I get for you to drink tonight?"

"Bourbon, on the rocks." Crowley lays back. "The Kentucky stuff."

"Kentucky." Aziraphale shakes his head. "A glass of the house red please." She exits with a smile. "Such a lovely girl, we should give her a nice tip and a miracle or two."

Crowley hooks his right elbow over the back of the chair, lacing his fingers together. "Going a bit overboard, aren't you?"

"Perhaps," He looks at the menu again, turning his attention there and shakes his head before turning to the dessert menu. "Ah, here we are."

"Your sweet tooth will be your undoing, Angel." Crowley nods at the server as she sets their drinks down. "Give him a few minutes he hasn't picked yet."

Aziraphale looks up and nods at her, "Just a bit longer."

"Ice cream, tiramisu, oh," He folds his menu closed.

"Find something?" The Demon still sits with his left arm hooked over the back of the chair. His left hand is holding his bourbon, his wrist twists, and the fluid in the glass cascades around the edges of the low ball beautifully. It's a warm color, the color of his beautiful leather seats in the book shop. He doesn't know why it transfixes him. "Angel."

Looking up, he blinks, "I'm sorry I- what was it?"

Crowley points his glass and one finger toward the server who has returned. "What can I get for you?"

"The bread and butter pudding if you will, a la mode, please."

"Don't forget a cherry on top," Crowley says and looks smug. Aziraphale nodded, dismissing her. "I promised, didn't I?"

"I suppose you did." Aziraphale unrolls the silverware and sets them at their appropriate stations beside his plate before opening the napkin and laying it over his lap. He starts to think deeply again, lost in a moment. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Crowley says softly.

"I um, am not sure why I am distracted," that's not entirely true. Aziraphale, the angel of the eastern gate, has ostracised himself from heaven. He's utterly alone, except for Crowley, who is always there for him. Always sought him out, and never once doubted their deep friendship, and that's what they are friends. Aren't they?

"You're doing it again-" Crowley smiles, bringing the low ball to his lips to drink back the bourbon again. 

"I- Perhaps this wasn't a good idea." Aziraphale smiles at him, meeting his eyes, and the feeling that registers back is love. "I-" He doesn't say anything for a long moment. "Crowley?"

"Yes, Angel?" The Demon sets his glass down, sitting forward. "What's wrong?" There's a concern on the Demon's face.

"I think-"

"Here we are." The server sets the dessert in front of the angel and he thanks her.

"Miss?" Crowley smiles up at her. "More bourbon and bring another spoon, will you? I think my friend here might need help to finish this off." She darts off quickly.

Aziraphale smiles. "Not like you need to eat food," Aziraphale really would like to eat the entire thing himself. He doesn't like to admit that he has trouble when it comes to sharing. If how he treats anyone who wants to buy a book, in his bookstore, is any indication.

"Perhaps," His seat scoots near Aziraphale. The Demon is smiling like a lecher. "I just want to be close to you."

Aziraphale feels warm, there's a lump in his throat, and before he can speak; the bourbon and spoon arrive. Why does his whole situation cause him to feel numb? Crowley doesn't eat, and he's never known him too, that can't be right, they go to dinner all the time!

"Again, Dear boy, you don't eat all that often."

Crowley picks up the spoon, delivered him, and sticks it in his iced bourbon. He spins the spoon round and round. Pulling it out, he taps it on the side of the lowball glass and offers it to the angel. "Now try it."

"The pudding?"

"The pudding."

Aziraphale takes the newly offered spoon and cuts into the bread and butter pudding, taking up the ice cream and the cake-like substance below. He takes it to his mouth and takes a bite. His eyes brighten, and he moans into the taste. "Oh, that is good." He says softly chewing. "Something about the sweetness of the bourbon-"

Crowley smiles, pleased with himself. "Temptation achieved."

"Oh, you really must try it yourself." Aziraphale picks up his napkin and wipes off the spoon. "You absolutely must try this."

"No, thank you, Angel," Crowley says kindly and scoots back away from him.

"Why not? It's just a bite." Crowley is shaking his head fervently now.

"Aziraphale, in all the years we have known one another when have you ever seen me eat?"

Aziraphale considers a moment. "There was that one time in Greece- no you didn't eat; you only drank the wine. The time inside the- no you drank mead," It strikes Aziraphale. "You don't eat. Won't eat, my dear boy, why won't you eat something?" he motions to the plate ahead of him. “It won’t hurt you.” 

Crowley looks over the glass as he's taking another drink. "Don't dare to."

"And why is that?" Aziraphale takes another bite of his pudding.

Crowley smirked, "_ And the LORD God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and _ ** _dust shalt thou eat _ ** _ all the days of thy life." _

"Crowley, the human bible is rarely a work of nonfiction." Aziraphale smiles at him, but he looks concerned just the same. It is a severe admission if it is true.

"But it happened, just like that." Crowley picks up his cup, "I told them, how do you think it made it into the damn book?"

"You did?" Aziraphale lowered his spoon. "It happened, just like that?"

"Yes, just like that."

"I don't recall-"

"Was just before I came to the wall to see you," He smiles looking over the tops of his glasses just a moment, yellow eyes bright with mirth. "Dust, you shall eat, but not drink." He holds up his cup, shaking it slightly, for example. The ice cubes in the glass clink against the sides. Pushing his glasses back on his eyes, he smiles, "It's been quite the life so far, but it has been a good one."

"I had no idea." He suddenly felt guilty for even eating in front of the Demon.

Crowley leaned in close, and that love and warmth spread over him. "Finish your pudding, Angel." The demon sat back in his seat and taking another drink of his bourbon.

"Are you sure?" Crowley nods.

"Waste not."

"Want not," and Aziraphale did want the dessert.

* * *

The book store is reasonably quiet when they return. "Have a good night, Angel." Crowley is backing down the stoop and turning away. 

"Won't you-" Crowley turns to look at him. His departure stayed. "Won't you come inside? I want to ask you about something."

Crowley looks all of a scared animal, ready to bolt away. Aziraphale prays he'll do this, one thing. Aziraphale is relieved when Crowley's hand takes the small rail, and he walks inside.

Aziraphale ensures the closed sign is out, the shades are drawn, and the door is locked.

"What is it, Angel?" Crowley is standing inside the doorway.

"Please sit," Aziraphale motions him to the small sofa.

The Demon walks over and calmly sits down legs stretched out. "Alright," Crowley gestures widely. "I am sitting."

Aziraphale smiles and comes around to him. "I have a question to ask you Crowley, and now I don't want you to be offended." He looks as though he already is. "Just please give me a moment." He takes a breath and lets it out.

"On with it, Angel, I have places to be, people to tempt."

"Do you love me?" Aziraphale asks.

It looks like the air has gone out of Crowley's lungs, he reaches up, pulling his glasses off of his face and looks at Aziraphale blankly. "What did you say?"

"I asked, _ do you love me _, Crowley?"

There's a wave of love, Aziraphale can feel it, knows the answer. He wants to hear it, needs to listen to it. Crowley shakes his head and puts his glasses on darting for the door.

"Dearest Stop!" Aziraphale stands, "Do not-" He sighs shoulders slumping. "Don't go." It's a plea. "I-"

Crowley doesn't move. He's waiting for something to happen. Aziraphale comes forward reaching ahead to take the Demon's hand. "Don't go," he murmurs, "I want you to listen to me for a moment."

"Out with it then," Crowley looks dissatisfied. "I should be going."

Aziraphale smiles at him. "Food is used to sustain people. We don't need it, and I know that I enjoy it." Crowley starts to pull away, but Aziraphale holds him still with just the hand. "Crowley you sustain me, and if I were never to eat again, it would be worth it for you to not walk out that door this very moment; for you to stay."

It's hard to think about what he has just admitted. Harder still to know he has the conviction to see it done. "Aziraphale-"

"I'm not finished talking, Crowley," He says promptly. "What I mean to say is-" Deep breath in and out, he takes his hand from the Demon's side, reaching up to hold the Demon's face in his hands. They stand still for the longest of moments.

Crowley reaches up, pulling his glasses off once more. "Angel?" He sounds petrified to Aziraphale.

"I love you too." Aziraphale murmurs and kisses him deeply.

Crowley doesn't move for, what feels like, the span of minutes. Suddenly, as if a dam had broken it's banks, his arms reach out to wrap behind the angel and pull him closer, returning the kiss deeply.

Aziraphale can feel his bifurcated tongue as it sweeps over his own. This act isn't a war of mouths. It's a dance, one that Crowley is now leading him through. When it breaks, they are a hairsbreadth away from one another. "Angel?" Their noses brush gently, breath heavy.

Their foreheads pressed together. "How long?"

"Too long." Crowley murmurs.

"No more wasted time, Crowley."

"No more wasted time, Angel." Crowley agrees as he tosses his glasses on to the sofa and pulls the angel back to kiss him again. Aziraphale melts into it. "You taste like bourbon."

Crowley comes up for air. "You taste like," he licks his lips. "Pudding."

Aziraphale blinks "You can taste it?" his face lights up brightly. "Really?"

"On your lips, yes." He smiles, and kisses the angel again, getting fast and loose with his hands. "You taste like freedom, like sunshine, like heaven, like-"

"Like I am yours?" Aziraphale supplants for him.

They freeze again, "Only if you want to be," Crowley's voice is a whisper.

Aziraphale answers his statement back in kind. "I want to be." To this date, nothing has ever tasted so sweet to Aziraphale.

* * *

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚<3


End file.
